


i've lost and i've lost (but at least i found you)

by softdadironman



Series: sit next to me [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Childish Peter Parker, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Feels, Fluff, Hugs, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Peter Parker, Mario Kart, Peter Parker Has a Bad Day, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Team as Family, Teen Peter Parker, Touch-Starved, Wholesome, lots of hugs, pure fluff, touch-starved peter parker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-22 06:57:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19662157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softdadironman/pseuds/softdadironman
Summary: In this line of work, you can't save everyone. Peter knows this; it's nothing new. Loss is a part of the job, but nothing stops it from hurting.At least the Avengers are there to help him up.





	i've lost and i've lost (but at least i found you)

Peter was having one of  _ those  _ days. 

He didn’t sleep well at all last night due to him getting home late from patrol. As if that hadn’t been bad enough, he had a report due the very next day. He didn’t finish it until seven in the morning. 

His report was turned in on time at least, but he got his test from that Monday back. When he got a 35 handed back to him, he knew it was over. Especially when Flash got a better grade than him. 

So that sucks. He’s tired and he’s pretty close to failing Chemistry. 

Then a little boy dies in his arms. 

Peter’s lost some before, and it never gets easier. He’s used to the loss. In his line of work, lots of people die. 

Kids, however? Those always tears his heart out. 

Handing a lifeless boy back to his sobbing mother? Yeah, so not the highlight of his day. 

He stays behind for a bit to talk with the mother. It takes everything he has not to break down with her and cry. The boy, not even one, is cold to the touch yet warm where the burns cover his small, small body. 

He doesn’t even have the heart to swing home. He walks because he knows the second he walks inside everyone’s going to be all over him. 

He takes his sweet time going home. He slowly twists the doorknob open and stumbles into the house on shaky feet. 

“You’re late!” Sam called from the couch. “Dinner’s in the fridge.” 

Just the thought of dinner makes Peter want to puke. He drops his backpack on the ground, a loud thump sounding throughout the house. 

Peter rounds the corner to see Sam and Bucky on the couch with game controllers in hand. 

Peter’s so wet that he’s dripping water on the floor. 

“We’ve been practicing,” Sam explains, holding up the controller. “We’re going to beat you.” 

Peter trudges his feet in front of the television. As soon as Sam and Bucky lay eyes on him, they sit up. “Whoa, kid, are you okay?” Bucky asked, hopping off the couch. 

Peter nodded weakly. He nodded, and he didn’t stop. “Yeah…!” he said, voice trailing off. “I’m okay.” His eyes were a dark, angry red. His face was twisted up so much that the pain was apparent. He nodded, but the tears were already falling. 

Taken back, Sam went to ask him more questions, but he didn’t get the chance before Peter threw himself on top of Bucky. 

Burying his face into his chest, Peter’s entire body shook with the sobs. “Peter,” Bucky gasped, moving his hands to hug him back. Peter went limp in his hold. He would’ve collapsed on the ground if it wasn’t for him. 

Peter’s quivering hands grab on tightly to the back of Bucky’s muscle tank. “What happened, Pete?” 

Peter pulled away from Bucky. Sniffling, he reached into his bag to pull out a crumbled up piece of paper. 

“It’s just one test,” Sam consoled. 

Peter bit his lip and shook his head. “I wrote a book report… on the wrong book,” he cried, covering his face with his hands. Bucky took the paper from him and tossed it on the ground. “And, then, I overslept, so my teacher yelled at me, and he already doesn’t like me, and I think I have authority problems because I want to cry everytime I dissapoint a strong male figure in my life. And, and, and then I…” Peter broke off into sobs. “Sergeant Barnes, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he said, taken back. “It’s okay, Peter.” 

Peter only cried harder.

Bucky, not really knowing how to help, scooped up Peter effortlessly. He sunk into the couch with the kid on his lap. Knees on both sides of Bucky, Peter buried his face into his shoulder and cried. 

Rubbing circles into his back, Bucky motioned for Sam to go heat up some tea. Sam was way ahead of him, though, and was already returning with a cup of warm tea and some leftovers. 

Peter’s eyes fluttered open at the soft tapping at his shoulder. Sam held up the mug to him which he accepted with shaky hands. Climbing off of Bucky, he sandwiched himself between them. 

His crying stopped abruptly. He started chugging his tea. “Whoa, whoa,” Sam said, putting a hand on his back. Peter pulled away from his drink, coughing. He sniffled then began to sip slowly. 

Peter finished the drink before leaning forward to place it on the coffee table. He snuggled further into the couch between the two. Sam reached to his left to grab a blanket to cover them with. 

Peter grabbed it with balled fists. He brought it close to his face as if he’d drown in the fabric. 

“Mr. Wilson?” Peter piped up suddenly, hiccuping loudly. He looked quite pathetic with his red, heavy eyes. Soaking wet. It wasn’t a good look for him. “Can you…” 

“Yeah?” he breathed back. 

Peter sniffled, dropping his head on Sam’s chest. 

Sam, not needing him to finish his question, wrapped a comforting arm over Peter’s shoulder. Bucky did the same on his side. Peter snuggled himself into the warmth. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, barely audible. 

“You’re okay, Peter,” Bucky said. “We got you.” 

Like a beam of sunshine, Peter lit up. He could hear Bucky say that a thousand times before getting sick of it. “I lost a kid today,” Peter confessed suddenly. “A boy. He was going to be six months.” 

“Peter…” 

“He was so  _ tiny,”  _ Peter rasped, holding his hands out. “So, so tiny. He… he was burnt alive before I even got to him.” 

“Peter, I’m sorry,” Sam apologized, pulling him in closer. 

Peter hiccuped. “Me too.” He lay his head against his chest and wrapped his hand around the blanket. 

Peter whispered something, and this time, neither of them were able to hear it. “I’m sorry; what’d you say, Pete?” 

Peter lifted his head up. “I’m going to crush you both at this game.” 

Paling, Sam watched Peter webshoot the third controller into his lap. He adds his controller into the game and goes to start a match. 

  
  


Peter has bad days. Like every superhero, teen, mother, person on the planet. Everyone fails tests, everyone sleeps in. Everyone loses someone at least once in their life. 

Peter’s lost and lost. He’s only known loss. 

But the loss doesn’t even  _ amount  _ to what he’s found. 

Pain isn’t forever. The memories, the trauma, that stays. It barges into the unwelcoming home of his heart and makes its place to stay. He can’t make it leave, he can’t forget, but then again he doesn’t want to. He remembers, even though it hurts. 

He remembers everything he loses. Because, if not he, who will? 

May was all he had left. She knew loss, too. She lost her sister and brother-in-law afterall. She never forgot them, though, no matter how much it hurt. 

Because, even through that loss, she found Peter. 

And Peter found them. 

“Peter, you just drove off the map,” Sam cackles, elbowing him. He watches his character take a victory lap before snapping his head at the snoring kid. “Oh, how long has he been out?” 

Bucky set down his controller and shook the boy. “Hmm?” he asked, stirring awake. “What time is it?” 

“Bedtime,” Sam guessed, smirking. 

Peter blinked a few times before climbing off of the couch. “Oh, okay,” he said, stumbling to his feet. “Night, night, Mr. Wilson. Night, night Sergeant Barnes. I love you.” 

Peter, oblivious to the stunned man he left in his wake, was already shuffling out of the room. 

“Goodnight!” Bucky called back after a stunned silence. “Oh my god, we got an ‘I love you’. We got one before Tony! He’s going to be so jealous.” 

Sam blissfully sunk into the couch. “He said he loves us.” 

“Suck that, Tony!” Bucky cheered, pumping his fist. 

“What am I sucking?” Tony asked, waltzing into the kitchen. He took a soda out of the fridge and cracked it open. 

“Oh, nothing, just the fact that Peter said he loved us,” Bucky said cockily, twirling his hair. 

Tony dropped his newly opened soda and let it spill out on the floor. “He did  _ what?”  _

“That’s just extra!” Sam said, cringing at the mess. “Tony, clean that up. Tony!” 

Tony was already running down the hallway to barge into Peter’s room. 

“Peter, you little--” He kicked the door open to find Peter collapsed on the bed. “You little adorable shit head.” Shutting off the lights, he closed the door as gently as he could before storming back into the living room. 

“How’s it taste?” Sam asked with a shit eating grin. 

Tony crossed his arms and tapped his foot. “This. Means. War.” 

**Author's Note:**

> my content is increasingly getting worse (im sorry this is so rushed and short) i only wrote this bc author wants a hug but won't let anyone hug her (makes sense, am i right LMAO)
> 
> im sorry this is rushed, but im working on a REALLY big fic, and its supposed to be around 20k words (which is alooooooot), so im sorry and i promise my content will get better as soon as it's dropped!


End file.
